The designer bra

Chapter 4

Rukmini first saw the pista and cream coloured garment and instantly knew it wasn’t hers. Out of curiosity, she pulled it out from under the pile of washed and dried clothes which she was about to fold.
“Arush!” she shouted.
Something was definitely wrong with this boy. She knew it the moment her brother had suggested his son stay with her and attend a school in Mumbai. She tried reasoning with him that she stayed in a small chawl and couldn’t afford the time and money to look after her nephew. But her brother had been insistent. He had promised to help her financially and also that Arush would help her with chores around the house.
He had been here almost a month but neither had he made any friends nor had he interacted with anyone. And today, when she gave him a simple job of bringing their dried clothes, he had brought a sexy, designer bra with them! Was he a pervert? A transvestite? Or simply a kleptomaniac??
“Yes bua, you called me?” Arush broke her chain of thoughts.
He looked so good and normal. God only knew what was going on in that brain of his, Rukmini thought.
“What is this?” she asked, flashing the bra in his face.
Arush looked stunned at this question. He looked at the bra, then at her, back at the bra.
“Its…it’s a…why are you asking me?” he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
“Whose is it?” she asked angrily, still holding it in his face.
Now he visibly cringed.
“How am I supposed to know?” he retaliated, a tone of irritation in his voice.
“Because you brought it with our clothes,” Rukmini said, finally removing it from his face (to his great relief).
“I brought all the clothes that were drying on our rope,” he said matter-of-factly.
“This,” Rukmini said, pointing at the bra with utter disgust, “was on our rope?”
“Yes! Whats the matter with you bua? Why would I steal someone else’s garments? That too, undergarments?” Arush said, troubled by his aunts apathy.
Rukmini stared at him closely. She had been observing his expressions. But he seemed truly surprised and as clueless as her about the bra. She would give him the benefit of doubt.
“Okay, now go and hang it back. I hope whoever owns it will not hang it on our rope again,” she told him.
Arush felt odd holding the garment in his hand. He felt like he was violating into somebody’s personal space.
As he made his way to the stairs, he wondered who could the owner of this flashy underwear be. He had seen the girls and women in this chawl and none of them seemed to be even remotely possible owner of this exquisite garment.
Now curiosity got the better of him and he decided to try and find out who it really was.
****
A shocked Ramaa was running frantically across the terrace, checking each and every inch of every rope hanging on the terrace. Her bra was nowhere to be found.
Finally, out of breath, she sat down in a corner. It didn’t need a rocket scientist to realize somebody must have stolen it. But the question was, who?
She could easily find out who that rope belonged to. But it was not necessary that the same person had stolen it. It could be anybody!
There was no way to confirm either. The thief could walk right under her nose wearing it and she would never know it! How could she have been so careless?
Tears welled up in her eyes. But before they began flowing, she wiped them and got up with determination. She had to find out who it was. And she would.
The next morning, Ramaa brought her pink designer bra and hung it at the same spot where the previous bra had been. She then went and hid behind a pillar, in such a way that she could see if anyone approached the rope but they wouldn’t notice her.
She had run this over and over in her mind till she had fallen asleep the night before. And she knew this was a bit crazy. But she had to do it. There was no other way. She had no idea how much time she would have to sit there. She also knew her mom would come upstairs to collect yesterdays clothes some time before noon and she would freak out if she saw Ramaa as for her, Ramaa was off to school. But she had to take the risk.
Hours ticked by. The sun was now shining directly overhead. Ramaa had almost stopped breathing when some ladies had arrived to carry their dried clothes back, and till now, none seemed to even glance at her bra. She was hungry and was wondering whether she should eat her tiffin now or wait some more.
Just then she heard footsteps.

to be continued...